


Moment of Peace

by ladysnowfaire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Castiel, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Loss of Virginity, Lying about sexual experience, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostitute Dean, Prostitution, Rimming, Top Dean, Twink Castiel, Virgin Castiel, background Alistair/Dean dub con, pimp Alistair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysnowfaire/pseuds/ladysnowfaire
Summary: Even fucking terrible jobs have their moments.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to read a prostitution fic where the prostitute was the top and the older partner, so I wrote this. Also, most prostitute!Dean fics have Dean as a terrified kid basically being raped, so I wanted to write one where Dean is more confident and in control of the sex, despite being a prostitute. This is set in a fictional place where the age of consent is 17. If the aoc is higher in your area, I guess it's technically underage, but 17 is aoc where I live so I don't consider it underage.

“Not interested,” Dean said firmly.

Dean’s pimp leaned in closer and whispered in his nasally voice, “You should think about it. It’s a generous offer.”

“I said no. I didn’t want to be your whore, and I don’t want to be your fuckin’ chauffeur either.”

“You know, in a few years, no one will want to buy this loose ass. What will you do then? You’re worthless without your looks.” The pimp slid his slimy arm around Dean’s waist and downward, digging his sharp, dirty fingernails into tight flesh.

Dean reached behind his back, grabbed the offending hand and forcibly removed it from his ass. “Fuck you, Alistair. You don’t own me.”

Dean brushed past Alistair to reach the door of Alistair’s apartment and then turned around to add, “By the way, you should get some Sudafed for that cold. All that snot is fuckin’ digusting.”

With that, Dean slammed the door and walked out into the night.

His anger helped drive away the cold for a few blocks, but all too soon it was hard to keep from shivering, his tight black mesh top not providing much protection from the cold November air. He was in a bad mood, his ass was sore from being fucked twice already that night, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to his crappy apartment and curl up on his lumpy ass mattress, but he needed to make more money tonight if he didn’t want to be short when he met Al again next week. And Dean definitely didn’t want that.

Fuck.

Dean knew himself well enough to know that what was pissing him off the most was that Alistair was right. At 29 years old, he was already one of the oldest prostitutes on the streets. There was no shortage of kids on the streets slinging their asses, and, in his business, the younger the better. Most of the older prostitutes were homeless, hopeless and slowly starving to death, in jail, or dead, while the “lucky” ones got crappy minimum wage jobs that barely paid the bills. Realistically, he had no future.

It didn’t take long for Dean to reach his usual corner, across the street from two nightclubs and a gay bar.

At the nearest club, The Box, a short, thin dude was talking earnestly to the bouncer, gesturing and looking pleadingly at the door while the bouncer scowled down at him. It was easy enough to guess that he was an underage kid trying to get into the club with a fake ID, and the bouncer wasn’t buying it. Dean wouldn’t either. The kid sure as hell didn’t look 21.

Dean caught the eye of an older man coming out of the gay bar. They walked back together to the man’s car and discreetly discussed prices, but, in the end, the man decided that he wasn’t interested.

Frustrated, Dean kicked a pebble across the street as hard as he could. It didn’t really make him feel better.

He sighed and trudged back to his corner, pacing back and forth in front of the streetlight to keep warm.

He was looking back at the gay bar, assessing whether he ought to move to another spot, when he heard a quiet voice say, “Excuse me, sir, do you know where I could find a cab?”

In front of him stood the kid from earlier, the one who’d tried and failed to get into The Box. Up close, Dean could tell he was quite attractive, with short brown hair that curled loosely around his pale face and large, beautiful blue eyes that regarded his surroundings with an expression of interest and wonder, like a kid on his first trip to the zoo. He was dressed to attract attention, with leather pants, a form-fitting shirt, and a touch of eyeliner and lip gloss. If he’d gotten into the club, he would have found someone willing to fuck him, for sure.

Dean discreetly looked around, but he was the only one nearby, so the kid was obviously talking to him. Well, that was different. Who the hell calls a prostitute “sir”?

“Take a right and walk two blocks to _____________ Avenue. It’s a major street, so there should be plenty of cabs.”

“Thank you.”

Dean watched with amusement as the kid walked away, stopped, looked back at him, then walked slowly back towards him.

He blushed and stammered. “Um…I don’t mean to be rude, but are you a—a—you know…?”

“Are you asking if I’m a prostitute?”

Dean had the pleasure of watching the kid’s whole face turn beet red as he nodded once, quickly.

“Yes, I am,” Dean said cautiously.

The kid nodded once, then surprised the hell out of Dean by looking him straight in the eye and saying in a firm, confident voice, “Would you be willing to have sex with me? I can pay you.”

Hard as it was to render Dean speechless, being propositioned by a weirdly polite, inexperienced little dude who looked about half his age was enough to do it.

“I wanted to find a sexual partner at one of those clubs, but they wouldn’t let me in,” he added.

“How old are you, kid?” Dean asked, when he finally found his voice.

“I may not be 21, but I’m old enough to have sex,” the kid said defensively, with a proud tilt of his head.

“Good for you, but I need the exact number.”

“I’m 17. Do you have to see my ID?” he asked. He was clearly reluctant; he probably didn’t want Dean to know his personal information, and Dean didn’t blame him.

“Naw, that’s alright. I believe you. Follow me.”

Dean led the kid through an alley into a slightly less conspicuous place to continue the discussion. He was always aware of the illegal nature of his profession when discussing terms and wanted the risk of getting caught to be as low as possible.

“How much money are we talking?” Dean asked.

The kid reached into his back pocket and pulled out an expensive looking leather wallet. He grabbed all the bills inside the wallet and laid them in Dean’s hand.

“Here. Oh, wait, sorry I forgot. I need $40 of that back for cab fare.”

Dean gave him $40 back right away and counted the rest. There was $320, more than double what he usually charged.

“Is it enough?” the kid asked anxiously.

“Yes, it’s enough,” Dean replied. He thought for a moment and then asked gently, “Have you ever had sex before?”

The kid hesitated for a second, then nodded.

Dean sighed. He was a terrible liar. Dean wanted to tell him to go home, get a boyfriend, and give his virginity to someone who loved him and would make it special for him. But, fuck, he needed the money.

And, honestly, Dean doubted the kid’s first sexual experience would go the way it should even if Dean declined his offer. Sooner or later, he would find a bar or club that would let him in even with a fake ID and his insanely youthful looks, and from there, it would be all too easy to find a man interested in his innocent charm, a man who would probably care more about his own pleasure than the kid’s.

At least Dean would be gentle and considerate and make it feel good for the kid. Dean supposed that was all a person could realistically hope for from his first sexual experience, and it sure would be a hell of a lot better than his own first time had been. True love didn’t exist—no one knew that better than a prostitute.

“Okay,” Dean said. He took the kid’s hand and pressed the money back into it.

The kid stared up at him with a ridiculously hurt expression in his blue eyes. “But, I thought—”

“I don’t take money for unfinished work,” Dean explained. “You can pay me afterwards, okay?”

“That’s very ethical,” the kid said approvingly. “By the way, I would like to know your name if we are to be intimate with each other. Or, if you do not wish to disclose your real name due to the sensitive nature of your occupation, a pseudonym would suffice. I would like you to call me by my middle name, which is Castiel.”

Dean had to smile at Castiel’s overly polite and precise manner of speaking. “Nice to meet you, Castiel. I’m Dean. That is my real name, by the way,” Dean said.

He was secretly thrilled when his gentle teasing brought another blush to Castiel’s cheeks.

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked.

“We’re going to my apartment. Unless you know of somewhere else we can go…”

Dean had assumed that, young as he was, Castiel probably didn’t live alone, and was proven correct when Castiel replied, “No, your apartment is fine.”

Dean’s apartment was about a 25-minute walk away. They initially walked in silence, but within a few minutes Dean started humming “Stairway to Heaven” under his breath. Surprisingly, this resulted in Castiel asking about the song name and the artist, and then subsequently asking Dean to sing all the Led Zepplin songs he knew with his usual wide-eyed sincerity. Dean was a bit taken aback by this, but complied readily, since, after all, being asked to sing was one of the least odious requests a client had ever made of him.

Before long, they had reached Dean’s apartment building.

“You have a wonderful voice,” Castiel was saying as Dean buzzed them in. “And, though it is far removed from my usual music preferences, I like this ‘Led Zepplin’ band. I shall have to listen to more of their songs when I return home.”

“What music do you usually listen to?” Dean asked, as they walked up the stairs and down the hall to his apartment. Dean lived on the top floor corner apartment of his small building. It was as out-of-the-way as possible, ideal for his line of work.

“Classical music. And religious hymns, at church.”

“Is your family religious?”

“Yes. We’re very devout Catholics. I’ve gone to Catholic schools since kindergarten. My parents even named me after an angel—Castiel is the angel of Thursday.” Castiel’s expression turned sad when he continued. “My father would disown me if he knew that I was attracted to men.”

The expression on Castiel’s face said all too clearly that he had internalized some of his father’s homophobia. Even though Dean was a bit jealous of Castiel for coming from a rich family and, thus, having opportunities Dean hadn’t had at his age, he couldn’t stand to see such a sweet, innocent young man being made to feel ashamed of such an innocuous desire.

“Hey,” Dean said, cupping Castiel’s face and tilting his chin up until his eyes met Dean’s. “Listen to me. There’s _nothing_ wrong with you, ok? There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

Castiel stared up at Dean wide-eyed and unconsciously leaned forward a bit. Their mouths were so close that Dean could almost taste Castiel’s breath. Dean released Castiel and stepped back quickly, feeling uncomfortable with the suddenness of the intimacy. He was surprised at himself for saying something like that to a client. It was quite out of character for him; after all, he was paid to fuck men, not to give them therapy. Dean supposed it had to do with Castiel’s age. He’d never fucked someone as much younger than him as Castiel was (his usual clients ranged from a couple years younger than him to thirty years older), and the thought of doing so seemed to be bringing back the protective instincts he had thought he’d lost when his little brother died. But, that was dangerous. Castiel was not Sam, and it was not Dean’s responsibility to protect him.

“So, we’re here. My apartment,” Dean said, more to break the awkward silence than anything else. He opened the door and guided Castiel into the bedroom with a gentle hand on the small of his back.

He nodded toward the bed and asked, “How would you like to do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“What position would you like me to be in?”

“Oh! Um, I don’t really know about positions…”

 _No shit_ , Dean thought.

“…but I would like you to penetrate me, if that would be all right.”

“Of course,” Dean replied. “Whatever you want.”

Dean was not exactly surprised by this, since Castiel’s choice of clothing and makeup practically screamed “twink bottom,” but he was pleased by the confirmation of his assumption that he would be topping. Dean preferred topping to bottoming—he actually didn’t like bottoming at all—but he hardly ever got to top since the vast majority of his clients wanted him to bottom. Add to this the fact that Castiel would be very tight, and Dean knew that he would enjoy this way, _way_ more than he usually enjoyed sex with a client.

“Would you be willing to kiss me?” Castiel asked, looking up at Dean hopefully. “According to movies and television, some, um, people in your profession don’t like to do that, and, of course, if you don’t want to, or if you have a policy against it, you don’t have to, but I think I would really like it if you kissed me.”

It was true that Dean didn’t often kiss his clients, but that had more to do with him finding most of them repulsive than anything else…and that was definitely not the case for this particular client. So, Dean smiled and said, “I would love to kiss you, Castiel,” and followed the statement up with a kiss.

It was a playful, teasing kiss, in which Dean nipped at Castiel’s top lip, then his bottom lip, then took Castiel’s bottom lip between his and suckled it briefly before pulling away.  

Castiel whimpered at the loss of Dean’s mouth, and the cute, needy sound brought another smile to Dean’s face. Castiel enthusiastically returned the kiss, chasing the warmth of Dean’s mouth with his own, pecking, sucking, and licking Dean’s lips and into his mouth.

Cas’s kisses were a bit clumsy due to his inexperience, but his obvious eagerness and sincerity brought Dean pleasure. Besides, he tasted _very_ good. His lips tasted of spit and skin and strawberry lip gloss, and when Dean licked into his mouth, he tasted a hint of apple juice, which must have been the last thing Castiel drank at home, along with something indefinably sweet and innocent, like Castiel himself.

As they kissed, Dean pressed Castiel gently, yet firmly into the mattress. He wished it was more comfortable for Castiel’s sake, but then he didn’t usually have sex in this bed and, when he did, it was usually him on the bottom. Of course, Castiel didn’t need to be underneath Dean in order to take his dick, but Dean understood instinctively that Castiel wanted him, as the experienced one, to take control and show him what to do. Castiel wouldn’t want to ride him for his first time.

Dean sat up and pulled away for a moment, but only to take off his shirt. Castiel took a cue from Dean and struggled out of his shirt as well, having a bit of difficulty because Dean was straddling his hips. When Castiel finally emerged from the tangle of fabric, he was red-faced and panting.

“Relax,” Dean whispered in his ear, tongue darting out to lick the sensitive appendage. “We have plenty of time.”

Castiel shivered as Dean kissed and licked at his neck, then trailed kisses down his bare chest and stomach. When Dean’s mouth reached his lower belly, Castiel tilted his hips up to give Dean greater access. Dean rubbed Castiel’s dick through his leather pants and could feel that the boy was already hard. Dean kissed Castiel’s hip. “Good boy.”

Castiel rocked up into Dean’s hand. “Please,” he said.

Dean undid Castiel’s fly with one hand, while stroking his hip soothingly with the other. Castiel gasped as Dean put his hand around his dick and drew it out from his boxers.

“If you liked that, you’re gonna _really_ like this,” Dean said, and, without further warning, he placed both his hands on Castiel’s hips and swallowed his cock down to the root.

Castiel screamed with pleasure, feet kicking wildly through the air on either side of Dean’s head. Dean laughed around Castiel’s dick and swallowed a few times, massaging the dick down his throat. It only took a few seconds before Castiel’s whimpering and thrashing became more desperate, signaling to Dean that he was close. Dean pulled off and quickly grabbed the base of Cas’s dick to prevent him from coming. The penetration would go a lot easier if he was aroused and Castiel’s eventual orgasm would be more intense the longer it was delayed, so Dean planned to bring him to the edge several times before he let him come.

Castiel was breathing hard as he relaxed back into the mattress. He seemed a bit tired, but Dean wasn’t worried, as his youth would enable him to recover quickly.

“Did you like that?” Dean asked, kissing the head of Castiel’s cock.

Castiel nodded frantically.

Dean grinned. “We’re just getting started. Next, we need to get you out of these,” he said, fingering the hem of Castiel’s boxers.

Castiel started to sit up to help Dean take his pants off, but was stopped by a hand on his chest.

“You just lie back and relax. I’ve got this.”

Dean’s strong, sure fingers peeled Castiel’s boxers and pants off and discarded them on the floor. He left Castiel’s socks on, though, not wanting to bother with them. Besides, they gave the otherwise-naked Castiel a boyish effect that was kind of cute.

Castiel was lying back with his legs open slightly. He was in a pretty good position, but Dean wanted him a bit more open. “Open your legs a little bit wider, sweetheart,” Dean coaxed. “There you go.”

Dean lifted Castiel’s hips a little, this time ignoring the boy’s cock and balls and spreading his buttocks to get a good look at the hole that Castiel wanted him to enter.

The small hole was light pink in color, with just a few curls of soft, black hair on top. It smelled of soap rather than shit, and Dean appreciated that Castiel kept himself clean down there, given what they were about to do. Despite what Castiel had said earlier, his asshole looked much too tense and tight to have been entered before, so Dean was going to proceed under the assumption that he was a virgin. Damn, Dean was going to have so much fun opening up that tight little hole with his fingers and tongue.

Dean leaned down to press a warm kiss to the sensitive flesh of Castiel’s asshole, and Castiel gasped.

“Dean, what—?”

Castiel cut himself off when Dean started licking around his rim, tenderly coaxing the flesh to open.

“Why are you licking my anus?” Castiel asked, his voice full of open curiosity. “Don’t you think it’s disgusting?”

“Nope,” Dean answered honestly. “I can stop if you don’t like it, though.”

While Dean could tell that Castiel was really into it physically, he didn’t want to do anything that Castiel was ashamed of or that he had a moral or religious objection to. After all, no one knew better than a prostitute how much it could fuck you up to get off to stimulation you didn’t want to enjoy.

“No, it’s—it’s okay. Please continue,” said Castiel.

Dean took him at his word, narrowing his tongue to a point and licking inside Castiel, enjoying the feel of the boy’s untouched, butter-soft inner folds on his tongue. When Dean couldn’t fit any more of his tongue inside Cas, he pulled off and reached inside his tight pants for the small bottle of lube he kept in his pocket. Dean placed a dollop of lube on the index finger of his right hand, and, using his left hand to hold Castiel’s hole open, Dean sunk his right index finger as deep as it could go inside the little hole.

Cas’s rim had been opened slightly by Dean’s tongue, but further inside his insides closed tightly around Dean’s finger. Dean made soft, comforting sounds to Castiel as he worked him open, searching for the spot inside him that would hopefully feel really good.

If Dean had thought Castiel’s reaction to experiencing the gay side of _______________town had been sweet and naive, it was nothing compared to his reaction when Dean nudged his prostate for the first time. His eyes widened in such shocked pleasure you’d think he’d achieved nirvana, his jaw fell open, and a breathless keening sound came out of his mouth. His hands clutched Dean’s sheets reflexively.

Grinning, Dean wiggled his finger around a little more, further stimulating the sensitive little gland.

“Oh,” Castiel gasped “Oh! What—what is that?”

“It’s your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Castiel exhaled shakily. “Good…that’s an understatement. How do you do that? How do you know the perfect way to touch me?”

“It’s my job, remember?” Dean said drily, slipping in a second finger and continuing to stretch Castiel.

“Well, you’re very good at it,” Castiel replied. “I mean… I don’t mean in a bad way.”

Dean shrugged. “Everyone likes to be told they’re good at their job. Even prostitutes.”

“I said something wrong again, didn’t I?” Castiel said, somehow managing to sound both miserable and aroused at the same time. “I can’t seem to make any friends because everyone thinks I’m ah…! too…too strange.”

“Fuck them. I’ve only known you for about an hour, but even I can tell that you’re smart and kind and absolutely fuckin’ adorable.”

As Dean predicted, Cas blushed sweetly at his words. “You don’t have to say that,” he said.

“It’s the truth,” Dean replied, kissing Castiel on the thigh. He heard a slight pop as he pulled his fingers out of Castiel’s hole, noting that, despite the past few minutes of stretching, the boy’s ass was still much too tight for sex. Normally, even virgins didn’t require this much prep, but Castiel had an unusually tight asshole, and penetration was going to be difficult for him. Good thing Dean wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge.

“Are—are you going to put your penis inside me now?” Castiel asked. Predictably, he sounded both excited and a little nervous at the prospect.

“Not yet. Just getting more lube,” Dean said, reaching inside his jeans for the bottle.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Could I see you? You know, your… everything?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” said Dean, shimmying out of his jeans in one smooth, practiced movement. He didn’t wear any underwear because it saved him time stripping.

Dean stood up and turned around slowly for Castiel, giving the boy a good view of both his best assets. When he turned back around to face Castiel, the little dude was blushing again.

“You’re beautiful,” said Castiel.

“Thanks. You are too, and, before you disagree, I wouldn’t lie about that to an ugly client unless he paid me extra,” Dean said with a wink.

“Will you penetrate me now?” asked Castiel.

“I could,” said Dean. “But, if I did, it would hurt. Probably more than you’re expecting it to. You don’t want me to hurt you, right?”

“No, but… I wasn’t expecting the preparation to take this long.”

“Hey,” Dean said, soothingly stroking over Castiel’s hips, ass, and thighs. “Don’t worry. There’s no rush. But, if you want it to go faster, focus on relaxing your muscles down there, okay?”

Castiel nodded and visibly relaxed.

“There you go,” said Dean encouragingly.

After 10 more minutes of careful and thorough preparation, Dean judged that Castiel was finally ready to take his cock.

“Okay, baby, you’re ready,” Dean said, slipping a condom over his hard cock. “Just lie back and relax. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“Okay. I trust you,” Castiel replied. Dean could see his hole quivering and twitching in anticipation, but Castiel kept his legs vulnerably spread, patiently waiting for Dean’s dick.

Dean took his dick in hand and guided it down to the open hole, letting the head kiss Castiel’s rim for a second before slowly pushing it past the well-prepared ring of muscle into softness and warmth.

Dean barely registered Castiel’s shocked gasp over the pounding of blood in his veins and the overwhelming sensations that assaulted his dick.

The sensation of Castiel’s hole stretching tightly around the sensitive head of his dick felt amazing, but it was nothing compared to the perfect clench of his muscles further in. It was fucking transcendent. Dean had never felt anything so exquisite.

Dean pressed further in with a heartfelt groan of pleasure, stopping immediately when Castiel’s shocked whimpers turned pained.

Castiel’s inner muscles fluttered madly around Dean’s hard length, obviously trying and failing to cope with the stretch. His dick, previously diamond hard, was starting to go soft.

“What do you want to do?” Dean whispered. “Do you want me to pull out?” God, he didn’t want to pull out. He’d rather do just about anything than remove himself from the soft, warm heaven that was bringing him such bliss. But, despite the intense sensations coursing through his body, Dean did still remember that this was a job and that Castiel was his client, and that, therefore, Castiel’s pleasure was more important than his own.

“No, it’s okay,” Castiel answered. “Keep going. I can take it.”

But, Dean didn’t want Castiel to “take it,” he wanted him to love it, and he could hear the suppressed pain in his voice, not to mention the obvious softening of his dick. Despite Castiel’s stubbornness, his body just wasn’t built for anal sex.

Dean smiled down at Castiel to let him know he wasn’t disappointed. “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to worry about me. Remember, this is 100% about you and your pleasure.”

With that, Dean began to withdraw from Castiel as gently as he could. He was glad that he had been Castiel’s first, instead of some random guy in a club. Dean knew most guys wouldn’t stop when it felt so good, as long as they weren’t outright asked to stop, which Castiel was much too polite to do. And Castiel deserved better than having to lie beneath some scumbag and endure it, even if it hurt. Sure, Dean would have to give him a partial refund if they didn’t do anal, but he’d rather do that than hurt the kid even for one second.

“No, please!” Castiel cried, surprising Dean. “Please don’t pull out! I want it!” As he spoke, Castiel’s insides clutched around Dean’s dick even tighter, as though they didn’t want to let it go. By now, Castiel was so tight that Dean couldn’t move even if he wanted to, not unless he wanted to risk tearing Castiel. And, meanwhile, Castiel was staring up at him with so much want and need it took Dean’s breath away.

“All right,” Dean said hoarsely. “I won’t pull out. But, I really need you to relax now, okay?” He reached out and ran his hands over Castiel’s thighs and buttocks again and again in an attempt to comfort him and loosen him up inside.

Eventually, Dean’s gentle caresses did the trick, and Castiel loosened up more than ever before. Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally able to sink balls deep into Castiel.

“Wow,” Castiel whispered, voice full of awe. “I feel so full. So… connected to you.”

Dean smiled. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”

Dean stayed still for a little while to let Castiel adjust to the feeling of being full-to-bursting, but, before long, Castiel shifted impatiently and whimpered, “Please, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean said. “I’ve got you.”

With that, Dean began thrusting shallowly in and out of the tight, clenching hole, angling the head of his dick to hit Castiel’s prostate with every thrust.

Meanwhile, Castiel tried to move in counterpoint to Dean. His movements were awkward at first, but they became smoother as he quickly got the hang of angling his hips upward into Dean’s thrusts. Dean sped up a little, and they got in a rhythm. Dean was breathing hard and rocking steadily into Castiel’s willing body, while Castiel squirmed, whimpered, and moaned beneath him. After a few more minutes, Castiel started to moan Dean’s name with increasing desperation as Dean’s thrusts drove him closer and closer to climax.

“Dean. Dean. Dean!”

“C’mon Cas, come for me.”

Those words, along with a particularly forceful nudge to his prostate had Cas coming with a yell. Long, thick strings of cum erupted out of his dick as his body shook with the intense pleasure of finally reaching an orgasm that had been long denied. His body involuntarily clamped down on Dean even harder as he slumped down on the mattress, totally out of it.

Two more thrusts were all it took, and then Dean was coming with a helpless groan. Fucking fireworks were exploding behind his eyes and every nerve was going off like a rocket as he spent himself inside the condom.

As tired as he was from the intense sex, Dean only let himself relax on top of Castiel for a minute at most before rolling off the boy and checking on him.

Castiel was dead to the world, and Dead couldn’t help taking a second to gloat that the sex had been so earth-shatteringly great that Castiel had actually blacked out from the pleasure.

Moment over, Dean shook Cas’s shoulder gently and said, “Hey, kid, you ok?”

Castiel’s eyes blinked slowly open and he smiled at Dean. “You called me Cas,” he murmured.

For a second, Dean had no idea what he was talking about, but then he remembered shortening Cas’s name when he’d encouraged him to take his pleasure.

“Oh yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Castiel said. “I liked it. No one’s ever given me a nickname before.”

“Well, in that case, I’m not sorry,” said Dean, returning Castiel’s smile.

Dean pulled away and sat up. Despite his exhaustion, Castiel struggled to follow.

“Hey, relax,” Dean said, pressing Castiel back down onto the bed. “I’m just gonna get rid of the condom and find something to clean you up with.”

“Okay,” Castiel said. He seemed to be perfectly comfortable in Dean’s bed, despite the lumpiness of the mattress.

Dean returned less than a minute later with a soft, warm, wet washcloth and used it to clean Castiel’s dick and stomach. When he was finished, he draped the cloth over the bedpost and lay down next to Castiel on the mattress.

“So, how was your first time with a pro? Was it everything you expected it to be?”

“It couldn’t have been better,” Castiel replied, sounding completely sincere. “Although…no, never mind, it’s silly.”

“Hey, no judgment here,” said Dean, stroking down Castiel’s side to soothe him. “If there is something that I could have done better, I want to know.”

“I wanted to feel your seed inside of me,” Castiel admitted, his cheeks flushing a brilliant red.

“Ah, I see. If that’s something you’re into, I’m sure you can easily find a partner who’s down with that. I don’t do anal without condoms, though.”

“I understand.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Dean asked.

“I don’t have any more money,” Castiel pointed out.

“I told you that you had enough. I wouldn’t be offering otherwise.”

“Would you be willing to hold me?” Castiel asked. “It doesn’t have to be for long,” he added quickly.

In answer, Dean scooted a little closer to Castiel and wrapped his arm loosely around his waist.

Castiel immediately snuggled even closer with a soft, happy sigh and placed his own hand over Dean’s where it rested against his stomach.

It felt… fucking weird, but nice. Very nice. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time he’d held someone in such a chaste, calming way. It somehow felt even more intimate than the sex they’d just had, and Dean suspected that that was why Castiel had requested it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that what Castiel really wanted wasn’t an anonymous fuck, but a boyfriend. Though Castiel wouldn’t have to work too hard to find a boyfriend with his looks and personality, from what Castiel said, Dean gathered that there were personal circumstances in his life that prevented him from going for what he wanted. Dean could relate to that.

Castiel yawned. “I guess I should go, before I fall asleep,” he said reluctantly.

Dean hesitated, then said, “You can rest here for a bit, if you want.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose. You must have other clients besides me.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s getting to be too late to find more customers tonight anyway.”

“What time is it?”

“1:58.”

“Would you wake me up at 3:00?” Castiel asked. “I need to get home before my father wakes up.”

“Sure, Cas.”

Castiel yawned again. “Thank you, Dean,” he murmured as his eyes fluttered closed.

A few minutes later, Cas’s breathing evened out and Dean heard soft snores coming from the body under his arm. Dean thought about carefully extricating himself from the sleeping boy, but, even though he wasn’t that tired himself, he didn’t really want to get up. For the first time in a long time, Dean felt warm and comfortable and _safe_. Looking down at the sweetly sleeping boy in his arms, Dean found it hard to imagine him hurting a fly, let alone a human being.

Dean ended up spending the whole hour holding Castiel with one arm and absently combing through Castiel’s hair with the other. When 3:00 came, Dean found himself feeling almost regretful that he had to wake Castiel up and send him on his way, and he never felt that way with a client. Even when they weren’t awful, he was usually eager to send them on their way and get to the next guy or take a well-deserved rest.

Castiel woke slowly, like a flower slowly unfolding its petals and basking in the sunlight. Dean had to suppress a smile at the adorable sight of him rubbing his eyes and stretching. Dean climbed out of bed and re-dressed, then stood patiently beside the door to the bedroom, waiting for Castiel to do the same.

Castiel’s movements were clumsy with sleepiness, but he eventually got his clothes on. After he finished buttoning the last button on his shirt, he looked Dean straight in the eye and said, “Dean… thank you for being so good to me. I mean, I know it’s your job and I’m paying you, but you didn’t need to say all those nice things to me or hold me afterwards. I really appreciated that.”

“It was the least I could do for someone like you,” Dean said honestly. “You know, not very many people bother to be polite to whores, or even to treat us like human beings.”

“That’s terrible!” Cas exclaimed. He sounded so indignant, almost like he truly cared about Dean.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean agreed.

“Here, let me get your money,” Castiel said. He reached into his wallet, pulled out the $320, and handed it to Dean.

Dean looked down at the money and felt conflicted. On the one hand, Castiel had offered to pay Dean $320, and Dean could really use the money. On the other hand, Dean’s usual fee was $150, and he really didn’t feel right about overcharging Castiel. The sex had been an unexpected gift, and, when they’d cuddled afterward, he’d suddenly felt a lot less crappy than he had just a few hours before. As he’d held Castiel, protecting the lovely, sweet boy from a world that would mock and scorn him for daring to love the wrong gender, he’d felt like he was doing something worthwhile, even if only for an hour. Overcharging him would be a poor repayment for the peace Castiel had given him. Finally, Dean pocketed $120 and gave the rest back to Castiel.

Castiel scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion when Dean gave him change. “But, I thought—“

“My rate is $150 for anal,” Dean interrupted. “And the taxi’s on me.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Castiel said, sounding personally affronted. “You’re worth at least three times that! Please take my money, Dean. I insist.” With that, Cas thrust the money back towards Dean.

Dean shook his head. “You’re not nearly as stubborn as I am, kid. Keep the money. Use it for college or something. You’re a good guy, and I know you’re going to do great things someday. You don’t have to give me all your money.”

“All right, if you insist,” Castiel said reluctantly. “But, I still don’t think it’s right for you to charge so little.”

Dean sighed. “It’s all about supply and demand. And I’m not as young as I used to be. Anyway, you need to get going now, right? C’mon, I’ll help you hail a cab.”

Dean walked Cas to the nearest main street and hailed a taxi for him.

As he was about to get into the taxi, Cas paused with his hand on the door opener and looked back at Dean.  

Even though, as far as Dean knew, there was nothing to prevent Cas from seeking his services again, something about the moment seemed like a permanent goodbye.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said quietly.

“You’re welcome, Cas. Have a good life.”

When the cab pulled away from the curb, Dean was already walking back to his apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m pretty amazed at how long this ended up being for what was supposed to be a PWP oneshot. Apparently I can’t write short stories for the life of me.


End file.
